


When Angels Fall

by Crown_of_Winterthorne



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Sex, Angel Wings, Captivity, Haikyuu!! NSFW Big Bang!!, Hair Brushing, Hair Washing, Happy Ending, Kissing, Love at First Sight, M/M, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Original Character(s), Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Tattoos, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-22 06:29:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30034491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crown_of_Winterthorne/pseuds/Crown_of_Winterthorne
Summary: Keiji is a Fallen Angel who has been captured and paraded from town to town as part of a traveling menagerie. When he meets a disgraced Holy Knight, he allows himself to dream of a life beyond the bars of his cage. One that just so happens to include his Knight in tarnished armor.Written for the HQNSFWBB, with art by Suklaa.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57
Collections: Haikyuu!! NSFW Big Bang 2021





	1. Menagerie

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very different fic from the one I started. Let’s call it an AU of an AU. One day I hope to finish that version (which would have been much longer, a painfully slow burn, and potentially darker), but I hope that you love this story as much as I do. It’s helped me break through some horrific writer’s block, gave me ideas for future stories, and most importantly, is something that I got to work on with a friend. Suklaa’s beautiful art was an inspiration when I was struggling for words.
> 
> Suklaa’s Twitter can be found @Suklaa_art  
> Please go and give this wonderful artist some love 💖  
> And the beautiful art in question can be found here: https://twitter.com/suklaa_art/status/1371511697358348293?s=21 (my apologies, I cannot get the hyperlinks to work whatsoever—hopefully that’s just a glitch on Ao3)

Keiji had grown used to ignoring the crowds that milled around his cage. The awestruck children and the ones who poked at him with sticks. Women who gaped at his wings but blushed at his nudity. The pilgrims who came to worship. The men who leered at him. Their shouted prayers and catcalls blended into a cacophony. It gave Keiji a headache, but none of it meant anything to him anymore. Not that they had ever meant much to him in the beginning either. Humans were terrible. He’d had over fifty years among them to see that before he’d ever been captured and chained into Magpie Jack’s Magical Travelling Menagerie. 

Not that his kind were much better. _Angels._ Feh. A bunch of pious feathered assholes who fancied themselves better than everyone else was more like it. Keiji had rebelled against them during the last Great Demon war, when he’d realized that his side spilled more innocent blood than it saved.

And where had that gotten him? Fallen, his powers diminished, and his daggers and great sword stripped away, before finally being caught while bathing by a group of greedy men and turned into a sideshow.

Strangely enough, it wasn’t the worst thing to have ever happened. Just the latest humiliation.

Ignoring the crowd, Keiji settled himself into the farthest corner of his cage. He’d learned not to turn his back—it encouraged the worst of them to throw things. The chain around his ankle dragged on the dirty wooden floor. So did his long, curly hair. It had once been fine and lustrous but Magpie Jack didn’t much care about giving Keiji more than the necessities. Not since he’d learned the hard way what a fully blooded Archangel could do with a comb.

It was the armor that caught Keiji’s eye. Faces all blended together and any Angel worth their wings could tell you that a handsome face was no more trustworthy than an ugly one. For that matter, Magpie Jack was one of the most beautiful men Keiji had ever seen. It was a face that hid the avarice and cruelty within.

But this man… His armor… 

It was silver-white with golden sigils in the shape of a flaming winged sword. It looked as though it had seen better days, and so did the man who wore it, though his face _was_ attractive. His spiked hair was white, shot through with black and silver. His eyes were large and golden.

He stood head and shoulders above the crowd, pushing his way through until he was pressed up against the barred window of Keiji’s wagon. He didn’t have the same expression as the others. He didn’t look as arrogant as Keiji expected from a Holy Knight—assuming that he simply hadn’t stolen the armor. He looked… sad.

“What have they done to you?” he asked in a husky voice. 

Keiji met his gaze, silent and curious. He took note of the man’s sword: a beautifully crafted longsword that mimicked the sigils on his armor. It, like the armor, was real. 

“This is… this is wrong,” the Knight said, mostly to himself. He lifted his gloved hands to the bars, gripping them tightly as if he might pry them apart.

“Back off!” The scarred, grizzled man stationed as Keiji’s handler shoved himself between the cage and the Knight. He was taller, but not by much, and not nearly as broad or as young. He didn’t carry a sword either, but Keiji had seen him with a knife. He was quick. 

The Knight stepped away, raising his hands harmlessly. But his eyes didn’t leave the handler. He didn’t turn his back, even as he slipped away into the crowd. Keiji watched him go and wondered why it felt like his heart was suddenly in his throat.

* * *

It wasn’t the last time Keiji would see the Holy Knight.

As the menagerie moved onto the next town, Keiji would see him in the crowds that surrounded his cage. He didn’t wear the armor and he covered his hair with a dark hood, but those eyes were unmistakable. They seemed to see everything. Keiji was certain that they could see right through him.

He was curious for perhaps the first time in years. Time had blended together until Keiji was no longer sure how long he’d been in the Magpie’s collection, but even before that, he’d simply… existed. This man was something—some _one_ new. Someone fascinating.

“He’s just bein’ a creepy stalker like the pilgrims,” Miya the Fox told Keiji as he brought dinner that night. It was always the same: thin gruel designed to keep him fed but weak. Sometimes Miya would sneak him fresh fruit or a piece of meat, but like everyone else who worked for the Magpie, Miya looked out for himself first. Keiji couldn’t blame him for that.

“I don’t think so,” Keiji said quietly. His voice was rusty with disuse. Miya was the only person he ever spoke to. Everyone else treated him like an animal or a god. Usually the former.

Miya snorted his disbelief and shrugged. “Whatever. Give it time an’ he’ll either be tryin’ to pluck your wings for a lucky feather or kill you. Holy Knights are nuts.”

“I’m not sure he is. A Holy Knight, that is,” Keiji corrected himself. “Or at least… not anymore. We’re a long way from the Empire and he looks down on his luck.”

“One more reason to avoid him. If he abandoned the Order, he’s trouble.”

“So are you, Fox.”

Miya grinned. “Nah. Not me. You should meet my brother.”

He slipped away then, towards the fires where the Magpie’s men gathered for their evening meal. Most of them were mercenaries masquerading as zoo-keepers. A few had real experience with animals and cared for them well enough. Keiji hadn’t quite figured out Miya yet. There was something off about him, but he was honest enough. And he was kind to Keiji, which was worth more these days than honesty.

Keiji sighed and sat down to drink his gruel from the bowl. The Magpie didn’t trust him with a spoon either.

Fair enough. He’d almost carved the man’s eye out with one.

When he’d finished eating, Keiji started to comb out his hair with his fingers, working the tangles out as best as he could so that his curls didn’t begin to lock together. He longed for a real bath, but he wasn’t permitted those either. Not unless he was chained and guarded by half a dozen men. It was blessing enough that he was permitted dust baths to keep his wings free of nits and bugs.

He preened his feathers. They were easier to look after than his hair. Sometimes Keiji wondered why the Magpie didn’t just hack it off at his shoulders, but he supposed that people expected an Angel to have long hair. It had been his pride once, if Keiji was honest. An Angel’s wings were supposed to be their vanity, but Keij’s were nothing special. They were a tawny color, striped with red and shaped like a predator’s. Common enough to Archangels.

Black hair was far less common. Curls were downright rare.

Keiji sighed. Why was he thinking of these things? He hadn’t cared for his appearance since his earliest days with the menagerie. The Magpie had tried to dress him up and parade him around like a bird in a gilded cage, but when Keiji hadn’t played along, when the novelty wore off, he was relegated to being just another sideshow. He was no better than the aging lion or the starving Kelpie.

It was cold comfort to think about how he had ruined the Magpie’s dreams of becoming a full-fledged freak show. That’s where the money was these days, with the mermaids in their tanks, the fey who had once been called gods, and the djinn who were little more than slaves to the shows’ managers. Keiji had never seen one of the freak shows, but Miya had. And the Magpie used to wax lyrical about them, back in the days before Keiji tried to kill him.

As far as Keiji could tell, there wasn’t much difference between his cage and their contracts. At the end of the day, they were still trapped.

* * *

Keiji was woken by the sound of a twig snapping. He didn’t move, but his eyes flashed open, seeking out the source of the sound. It wasn’t the usual animal-in-the-woods-at-night kind of sound. He was used to those. This was something else, something that brought all of his oldest instincts to life and made his feathers prickle.

With his superior night vision, Keiji spotted the man quickly. He was a broad shape in the moonlight, wearing a dark cloak with a hood over pale hair. His golden eyes looked silver.

Keiji breathed out a sigh, the adrenaline giving way to amusement. A stalker indeed.

“I see you,” he said, pitching his voice low so that he wouldn’t be overheard by any of the men keeping watch. Assuming there _were_ any at watch. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” the Knight said, equally quiet. He came closer to the cage, looking sheepish. It was an odd look for any man of his size, but even more out of place on a Holy Knight.

“It’s fine.”

“Your guards are shit.”

Keiji smiled at that. “I know. It’s hard to find good mercenaries these days.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should you. The Magpie will kill you if he sees you. And he’s not like the rest of them.”

The Knight shrugged. “I’ve heard that before. I’m still alive.”

“Who are you?” Keiji asked. He sat up, stretching his wings out as much as he could in the confines of the cage.

“Bokuto. Bokuto Koutarou,” he answered, lowering his hood so that Keiji could see his face clearly. He really was handsome.

“You can call me Akaashi,” Keiji said. It was closer to a title than a name, but even Miya didn’t know his true name. Names had power and it was best not to share them lightly. It was also the last thing left to him. 

“Like the little red stripe-y owls,” Bokuto smiled. He had a good smile. It was wide and as brilliant as the sun. Keiji felt warmer just to see it.

“Yes,” he laughed quietly. “Like the owls.”

Bokuto came closer to the cage. He gripped the bars like he had done that first day. “Who did this to you?”

“The Magpie. Myself, I suppose. His men caught me off guard. Stupid, really.”

“How long?”

“Long enough.” Settling his wings back around himself like a cloak, Keiji tilted his head to study Bokuto. He was risking a lot to come creeping around the camp. The guards might be slacking, but it wasn’t unusual for the Magpie to wander among the wagons late at night, admiring his collection. And even though Keiji refused to cooperate, even though he wasn’t the draw he’d been even six months ago, he was still the jewel of the menagerie.

And the Magpie loved to gloat.

“Why are you here?” Keiji asked.

“A lot of reasons, I suppose,” Bokuto said, leaning his forehead against the bars. He didn’t look up at Keiji like he was in awe of a god, but like he was looking at a friend. Like Miya, but… gentler. Softer.

“Give me one.”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Miya was right. You _are_ a stalker.” Even as the words left Keiji’s mouth, they didn’t feel right. After all, he hadn’t stopped thinking about Bokuto either.

“I’ll leave if you want me to,” Bokuto offered. “But… I’d rather help you. Even if we never see each other again, I… I hate that you’re in this cage. I know you didn’t do it freely.”

“Are you sure? The freak shows are full of creatures like me.”

“You’re not a creature,” Bokuto said sharply. “And that chain around your ankle tells me differently. The fact that you’re sleeping in here like an animal instead of inside one of those caravans.”

Not just a pretty face or a bundle of muscles then. Keiji felt ashamed for thinking otherwise. “You’re right. But there’s nothing to be done about it. The locks are spelled and the Magpie keeps the key with him at all times.”

“Let me worry about that. If I can free you, will you leave?”

Keiji closed his eyes. Freedom. He hadn’t even let himself think the word. He sighed and looked at Bokuto with sad, resigned eyes. “And where shall I go, brave Knight? I’m Fallen. The Angels won’t have me. Your Empire would lock me up in their own fashion. They’d trot me out like a trophy to bless the poor and keep them hopeful and compliant.”

“I know,” Bokuto nodded. That he would agree surprised Keiji. Holy Knights weren’t supposed to point out the Empire’s flaws. “I’m… I’m exiled too.”

Oh. He should have known. Should have seen the similarities between them right from the beginning. From what he knew of the Holy Order, it was likely a petty, stupid reason. Not that Bokuto would see it that way. To him, the Order would have been his entire life. To be exiled, to have it ripped away...

“I’m sorry.”

Bokuto shook his head. “Helping you would make amends. To myself, at least. So I know I’m being selfish, but I also… you don’t belong in there.”

“And where would I go?” Keiji asked again, honestly this time. There was no trace of sarcasm or bitterness in his voice. Bokuto was being genuine. The least Keiji could do is offer the same.

“We could go East,” Bokuto said. “The Empire doesn’t reach that far and no travelling zoo could cross those mountains. Not this one, at least. And once we cross the borders into Seijoh, they can’t send hunters after you either.”

“You’ve thought this out,” Keiji nodded, thoughtful. “We?”

“Only if you want me with you.”

Keiji bit at his lip, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks. It was a feeling he wasn’t familiar with. Nor was he comfortable with the fluttering in his stomach or the way his feathers fluffed out. 

“I think I do. Tell me your plan.”

* * *

It was late when Keiji woke the next morning to the bustle of men breaking camp and hitching horses to wagons. He’d half-expected to find Bokuto asleep on the ground beside his cage, but the Knight was nowhere to be seen. They’d talked late into the night, plotting Keiji’s escape and when they’d exhausted themselves worrying about what could go wrong, they’d shared stories about their lives. Keiji couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt comfortable enough with anyone to talk about what his life had been like before his Fall. Even before that, he’d kept to himself among the ranks of Angels.

He’d very nearly given Bokuto his true name at one point.

It was foolish to trust him so easily, but Bokuto had a good heart. Keiji didn’t know why he was certain of that. Bokuto was kind and honest, with a smile that lit up his whole face and made Keiji feel as if he were laying out in the sunshine with his wings fanned out to soak up all of its life and heat.

And he had given Keiji something to hope for.

Sighing, Keiji sat up, pushing his hair out of his face, and stared out at the busy camp. Always dismal, now it seemed impossibly grey. He noticed the peeling paint on the wagons, the horses dully allowing themselves to be hitched, their coats shaggy with the remains of their winter coats. Skinny dogs darted around the camp, fighting over the scraps leftover from breakfast. The men who bustled around were shabby at best. Farmers who had fallen on hard times, mercenaries who rented out their swords to protect creatures that weren’t worth the price of admission. Here and there was a young boy who had run away from home, seeking thrills and the mystique of a travelling show, or simply desperate to get away from drunkard parents and poverty.

Maybe once upon a time, Magpie Jack’s had been worthy of admiration. Now it was a crumbling shadow where the animals were old and the fading crown jewel was a Fallen Angel who had never consented to being there in the first place.

There was one caravan that retained its luster. It was colorful and large, drawn by four big black horses. It had a chimney and a big window that was shuttered more often than not. The heavy door at the back swung open, allowing a tall, slender man to descend the stairs. Dressed all in black, Magpie Jack surveyed the camp like a king. His straight black hair was almost as long as Keiji’s, tied with braids and charms of silver and stone. A silver-dipped magpie skull dangled from a chain around his neck. A set of keys jangled at his hip.

His storm grey eyes landed on Keiji’s wagon and a slow smile split his face. He would be beautiful if not for the cruelty lingering in those eyes, the smirk twisting his lips. Keiji glared back.

“Stop,” Miya appeared beside the wagon. “He’ll just come over and antagonize ya more.”

Keiji snorted and shoved himself up against the solid wall. His wings came around to wrap around his body like a blanket. The Magpie walked away from his caravan, smirk still in place. Keiji felt his lip curl in disgust.

“Sulk all ya want, but I’m right,” Miya said. “We’re headin’ out soon. You missed breakfast.”

He shrugged. Not that it mattered. Except… now it did, didn’t it? If Keiji was to escape, he’d need whatever strength he could find. A bowl of weak gruel was better than none at all.

“Here,” Miya tossed him an apple. It was fresh, with golden skin and a sweet scent.

“Where did you get this?”

Miya smiled. “I have my ways. I’ll try to sneak ya something else later.”

Keiji nodded his gratitude and tucked himself further into the cocoon of his wings to eat. Even though he’d just woken, he felt tired. Old. Hollowed out.

When had he given up? And why had it only taken the appearance of one stranger to bring him back to life? What was it about Bokuto that made Keiji remember what it was like to dream of freedom? 

Love at first sight was for children and fairy tales. Just because magic was real didn’t mean that the stories were.

And yet.

* * *

Scattered crowds came out to see the menagerie roll through the streets. For those who hadn’t been able to afford admission, it was their last chance to see glimpses of the exotic and magical animals kept in the wagon cages. Keiji met the sad, hopeful eyes of a little girl who stared at him in wonder. Tears streamed down her dirty cheeks and he had to look away. Even if he’d been freed, Angels weren’t the benevolent, holy beings that humans made them out to be. He couldn’t have done anything to help the poorest of these people, nor healed the sickest.

His people were warriors. And they’d slaughter humans right alongside demons, so long as it served their purposes. If they had ever fought for peace and love, Keiji had never seen it.

He’d Fallen for it.

Bokuto said that he’d been exiled too. At the time, Keiji hadn’t pressed and Bokuto seemed uncomfortable with the subject, but now he wondered what had happened.

Keiji had his suspicions. He'd met other Holy Knights. He knew their ridiculous code of conduct, the arrogant self-righteousness of those who considered themselves particularly pious. Bokuto didn’t strike Keiji as that kind of man. Truthfully, he seemed too good hearted to be one of the Order. Hadn’t Keiji suspected him of stealing the armor before he realized that Bokuto truly was a knight?

Thinking fondly of the man made Keiji scan the crowds for him. It would have been foolish for Bokuto to be there, where he might catch the Magpie’s notice, but Keiji suspected he was nearby. He’d follow the wagon train to the next town and wait until they made camp. Wait until the tents had gone up and the local vendors had straggled in. Wait until the townsfolk paid their admission and brought new faces to the crowds. 

And once the menagerie had settled into camp, it would be that much harder for the Magpie to give chase. Keiji felt anxious just to think about it. It had been too long since he’d had the chance to plan tactics. His blood sang for battle and his mind raced with strategies. Pros and cons and consequences.

After all, Keiji had nothing better to do than sit back and think as the wagon bumped along the rutted road, leaving the town behind. He promised himself that the Magpie would regret giving him the chance.

* * *

“Ya seem restless.”

Keiji thought that was the understatement of his life, but it would be foolish to admit it. Even to Miya.

They’d stopped for the night, making camp along the road with the wagons circled around a communal fire. Miya slipped Keiji a thick slice of bread alongside the tiny bowl of stew. 

“Enjoy it. We ain’t gonna eat this good again until after the next show.”

“Who’s we?”

Miya tried to smile, but even a sarcastic one couldn’t come to his face. “Before I came along, did they let ya starve?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” he answered. “Luckily you showed up not long after I did. My other keepers were lousy conversationalists.”

“Funny.”

“Miya…” Keiji looked at him seriously, “I _am_ grateful to you. I know you’re not allowed to do much for me, but it’s more than any of the others have done. And you’ve never tried to hurt me.”

A blush rose to Miya’s face. It was uncommon and delightful. He turned away from Keiji, running a hand through his hair. “Stop. I ain’t worth yer praise, Angel. I’ve done plenty of shitty things in my life. Maybe not to you, but—“

“You’re the closest thing I’ve had to a friend in well over fifty years,” Keiji shushed him. “I’m not saying that just because you’re the one who brings me food and cleans my cage. I’m not that hopeless.”

“Ya know…” Miya exhaled a deep breath, giving Keiji a thoughtful look, “I was beginning to wonder about that. But the last couple of days… yer more than restless. You’re starting to look alive again. It’s that stalker Knight, ain’t it?”

“Don’t make him sound like a creep.”

“I thought so. What’s so special about him?”

“Go back to the fire,” Keiji chuckled, turning away to sit against the wall of his cage. He tucked his wings around himself, a sign that he wanted privacy. “You’re imagining things again, Fox.”

“Have it your way,” Miya huffed, but there was laughter in his voice too. 

He knew. Keiji was sure of it. Miya had a way of figuring things out long before anyone else even suspected there was something worth knowing. He was clever and sly in ways that Keiji had come to appreciate, but he suddenly worried that Miya’s friendship would only extend so far. Would he put himself in danger for Keiji if the Magpie threatened him? Or would he save his own skin?

Worse, would he sell him out before the Magpie even asked?

Keiji suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore. He forced himself to eat; Miya was right, he wouldn’t see food this good again for awhile, and he needed every calorie he could get. He wasn’t even sure if he was strong enough to hold a sword anymore.

Hopefully he wouldn’t need to try.

* * *

Keiji’s days fell into a familiar pattern. Travel by day. Sleep by night when the wagons were circled near the road. Miya seemed to sneak him more food than usual, but Keiji said nothing more than his thanks. For awhile, it seemed like his meeting with Bokuto was destined to be nothing more than a lapse in monotony. He didn’t see the Knight again. Not at night, not in the distance by day. If it weren’t for Miya, Keiji might have convinced himself that he imagined it all.

“Yer lovelorn.”

“I am not.” Keiji was offended by the very idea. The fluttering in his belly suggested otherwise, but he firmly ignored it.

“Yeah, you are,” Miya teased. “I never pictured you as the pining type, but jeez. Yer like a princess in a tower or something.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“He’ll be back, ya know,” Miya said, his voice falling quiet and serious. He glanced over his shoulder for any eavesdropping ears. “It’d be bad if the boss caught him lingering around here right now. He’s nearby though.”

“How do you know that?” Keiji asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“Because unlike the rest of these idiots, I know when somebody’s tailin’ us. An’ I know when somebody’s in the woods and doesn’t wanna be found.” 

Miya gave Keiji a foxy smile and slipped him an apple before sauntering away towards the evening fire. It was another golden one. Keiji wasn’t sure where he was getting them and he was certain that it was better not to know.

Sighing, he hid the apple in his blankets and lay down on his back, his wings spread out on the wooden floor. He couldn’t stretch them out as fully as he’d like in the cage—often that was a good thing, since some of the sell swords liked to grab at his feathers as they passed by—but he didn’t mind much. Keiji was too preoccupied with Miya’s words. All of them, from his declaration that Keiji was in love to the fact that he knew Bokuto was following the menagerie.

Keiji didn’t let himself linger on love. It was far more important to worry about what Miya might do about Bokuto following them. He had no real loyalty to the Magpie. Keiji knew that, yet…

Once again, he found himself questioning if Miya had any loyalty to _him_. To their friendship.

Keiji turned his head to the woods. Was Bokuto there, watching? Could he see Keiji looking for him in the shadows of the trees? The moon was halved, offering enough light to reflect on armor, but Keiji didn’t see any. He didn’t think Bokuto would risk such a thing. He’d even covered his pale hair that first night.

Knowing Bokuto was out there somewhere only made Keiji feel lonelier. 

He turned his thoughts further towards the night they’d met. It was a familiar path, especially in these last few days. He remembered the way Bokuto had reached for him through the bars, offering his hand in friendship as they agreed to plot Keiji’s escape. His grip had been firm but not crushing, his skin roughened with use. Keiji used to have similar calluses on his own hands, earned through years of sword work.

He wondered what it would be like to have those hands on his bare skin, embracing him. What it would be like to feel them on his wings. Keiji shivered a little, feeling his feathers ruffle. It had been so long since he allowed anyone to preen his feathers for him. Even longer since he’d wanted anyone to touch them at all.

Miya was right. Keiji _was_ pining.

* * *

Another day on the road. Another night spent alone and dreaming of freedom—and a brilliant smile that chased away the darkness—then the menagerie was finally rolling into Laketown. There was more fanfare than usual, with crowds of onlookers flooding the streets to get a glimpse of the wagons and the creatures inside. They hadn’t yet seen the Magpie’s famous Angel, and they were eager to see him.

Keiji imagined that they would be disappointed. He didn’t play to the crowds the way that the Magpie wished he would. He didn’t wave or make benedictions. His only concession to his so-called master was to sit in the center of his cage with his wings arched behind him. He did it more for himself than for the Magpie. Keiji had realized early on that he felt defeated and ashamed if he simply huddled against the back wall with his wings wrapped around his body.

Some in the crowd threw flowers at him. Religious trinkets. A precious few coins. The Magpie would claim those, but Keiji appreciated the flowers. He’d never been sure why. Perhaps it was that a single, wilted wildflower seemed more genuine than the largest gold coin. Or perhaps he just missed the meadows and gardens of his youth.

The townspeople followed the wagon train to the lakeside grounds where they intended to set up camp. There were already a few hastily built booths on the boardwalk where vendors hawked their food and wares. A few questionable types displayed religious and magical charms, knowing that the most vulnerable and desperate would be drawn to Keiji’s appearance. The Magpie would demand a cut of their profits or have his men run them out. Keiji had seen it happen time and again.

It didn’t matter to him.

He looked out onto the bustle of the menagerie with a carefully blank face. Ropes and temporary screens of canvas were set up to keep the townsfolk from getting any more free peeks. They’d be funneled towards a single entrance to pay admission, and it would all be done quickly to avoid any protests. There had been riots in the first months of Keiji’s capture, everyone eager to see the Angel and be blessed by him.

Then there had been anger when Keiji refused to do more than glare at them. Now most folks were just curious and it was only the pilgrims who still expected more. They didn’t pay enough for the Magpie to force the issue.

He’d tried. Once.

But now the menagerie camp was struck quickly and the townsfolk allowed inside within the hour, most rushing towards Keiji’s wagon and needing to be held back by Miya and a handful of other men. Beyond that, it was more of the same. Taunts and cheers and pleas until their curiosity and hopes faded.

Keiji wanted to search the crowd for Bokuto’s face, but he didn’t dare. The Magpie and his men had grown used to Keiji ignoring the people surrounding him, preferring to sit in his cage with his wings on display but carefully out of reach. If he even acknowledged the crowd, it was with a bored expression.

Inside, his heart was racing.

Where was Bokuto? Would he keep his promise? It was going to be much harder to do in a town like this, where the menagerie had created such a stir. Folks were going to be lingering around the canvas walls late into the night, hoping for another glimpse of the Angel. Security would be tighter. Much, much tighter.

They should have waited. They should have tried sooner, while the train was still on the road and they were miles away from any kind of settlement. Keiji should have realized that attempting an escape in a new town would be impossible.

His heart sinking, Keiji closed his eyes and held his knees to his chest, letting his wings droop as he put his head down. Something soft hit his bare feet and he blinked through his lashes to look.

It was a crown of wild white roses and beach grass. A single owl feather was tucked into the stems, striped in greys and black. Keiji jerked his head up to see who had thrown it, but if it had been Bokuto, he was already gone.

* * *

Miya brought Keiji his meal later than usual. It wasn’t unexpected. The last of the townsfolk had only just been herded away from Keiji when the vespers’ bell rang from the church tower. It echoed throughout the valley, mournful and heavy. A thick fog began rolling in from the lake, bringing with it a late spring chill. Keiji shivered and brought his wings around his shoulders as he ate his gruel, grateful that it was warm.

“He says to be patient,” Miya murmured, leaning casually with his back against the bars. He was watching the campgrounds, shoulders tense.

“You’ve spoken to him?” He should have been surprised by that. Instead, Keiji was relieved. If Miya was helping Bokuto, then he wasn’t going to sell them out to the Magpie.

Probably.

“You knew I knew.”

Keiji smiled. “Yes. Why are you helping though?”

“I don’t like the freak shows,” he shrugged, glancing over his shoulder at Keiji. “What’s been done to you is even worse. You don’t belong in a cage.”

“I’ve never understood why you took a job for the Magpie when you hate him so much,” Keiji said. “What brought you here?”

“Was lookin’ for someone. He wasn’t here, but I needed the money.” Sighing, Miya stared up at the twilight sky. The stars were just beginning to come out. “Didn’t plan on stayin’ so long, but someone needed to look out for ya. Us freaks gotta stick together.”

Keiji wanted to laugh, to protest, but something in Miya’s tone suggested that would be cruel. He reached out to put a hand on the man’s shoulder, hesitant at first, but Miya didn’t protest. He was warm. Warmer than—

Oh.

The Glamour washed away at the first touch of Keiji’s hand. Miya’s appearance didn’t change, but his eyes caught the light from the rising moon, shining yellow-gold. There was a mirage of pointed ears and nine silver tails that flickered into Keiji’s vision, a shade of his true form. It disappeared as quickly as it had come as Miya wrapped the Glamour around himself again.

“You hide very well,” Keiji told him. It was an understatement. Now that he was no longer affected by the Glamour, it seemed obvious what Miya was. Even the nickname should have been a tip-off.

“I was surprised it took ya this long,” Miya grinned, his tiny fangs flashing. 

“My power isn’t what it used to be,” Keiji admitted with a wry grin of his own. He sobered. “And we’re not freaks. Neither of us. That’s just lies the humans tell themselves to feel better about what they do.”

“Yeah. Well, I ain’t sure that the Magpie is human.”

“Neither am I.”

“Your Knight is. He’s a good one.”

“Mm. I think so too.”

“That’s why I’m helping. He’ll come tonight if he can,” Miya said. “You’ll know when it’s time, but until then, just be patient.”

“Since that’s one of the few virtues I have left, I suppose I’ll manage.”

“Ya know, if we’re sharing secrets…”

Keiji caught Miya’s drift and shook his head, smiling. “Nice try, Fox. I think I’ll keep my sins to myself until I’m actually out of this cage.”

“You’ve gotten sassy in the last few days. I’m kinda likin’ this new you, Angel.”

“No,” he said, looking out past Miya to the darkened sky. He sighed out a long breath. “This is the old me. You’re just meeting him for the first time.”  
  
  
  
  



	2. Escape

The campfire was still burning when the half-moon rose high into the night sky. It cast eerie shadows across the lakeshore, flickering onto the beast wagons and the caravans. There was enough light for Keiji to see the figure coming towards his wagon. He was tall and wore a dark cloak that hid his hair, but it wasn’t Bokuto. His shoulders weren’t broad enough. Silver glittered at his chest and on his hip. He jangled when he walked from all of the charms he wore.

Keiji wrapped himself up tighter in his blanket and in his wings, making sure to be out of the Magpie’s reach. He had a fondness for touching the things he collected, even the ones who were likely to bite or break fingers.

“This town likes you,” the Magpie said, clearly pleased. His voice was deep, but instead of soothing, it slithered over Keiji’s skin. 

He didn’t answer. He never did. 

“I didn’t think there were any true believers left outside of the Empire, but there’s plenty of them here,” the Magpie continued. “We might stay for an extra day or two, if they keep coming to see you. And they will, of course.”

Keiji didn’t like the sound of that. He’d thought that he’d convinced the Magpie that he’d never cooperate with his schemes. No blessings. No “miracles.” Nothing.

“Come now. You know I’d give you more freedoms if you’d just play to the rubes a little more.”

Doubtful. More likely that he’d take additional liberties. Like the time he’d sold Keiji’s molted feathers. He’d tried plucking more, but that was when Akaashi was stronger. When he’d still had access to a spoon.

“You do this to yourself,” the Magpie sighed, shaking his head. “You could have been rich. Pampered. There’s a Naga with the Nohebi Freak Show and they treat him like a prince. You could have been a god.”

More lies. Keiji had heard of the Naga from Miya. He was treated like a prince because he _owned_ the freak show. It was rare for a creature or demon to own their own show, but not as rare as Naga were in the first place.

He let the Magpie go on, listening to his jealousy rise as he complained of Keiji’s lack of cooperation. The decline of his menagerie. The rising stars of Nohebi and the Dancing Cats of Nekoma. He hated them. He wanted to be them. It made him sound small and petty and petulant. 

Sometimes it was amusing when the Magpie got like this. Sometimes dangerous. It was always hard to tell which way the man would lean until it was too late. 

“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” the Magpie seethed, sinking into his anger. Keiji tensed, but made no obvious move. He was out of reach, but not throwing distance.

“I could have made more money off of your taxidermied corpse,” the Magpie went on. “Fake a few miracles here and there, run some tubing through your glass eyes to make it look like you were crying, sell the tears…”

He snarled, stalking back and forth in front of Keiji’s wagon like the restless old lion did inside his own. “It’s too late for that. If I tried it now, I’d be the man who killed an Angel. I’d be ruined. I can’t even sell your worthless ass in a brothel without being accused of desecration.”

That was a new threat. One that made Keiji’s heart skip a beat. The Magpie might think it was a bad idea now, but if he realized just how much money a private collector might pay? If he sold Keiji to someone who didn’t care about the Empire’s reach or the local religions? Angels weren’t Holy. Not really. They had power and magic yes, but they were no more Holy than demons were evil. It was the humans who believed those rules.

But oh, there were more than enough men who would pay to fuck an Angel if they knew they wouldn’t get caught. Some of them might even think it was lucky. A _blessing_. 

The Magpie didn’t notice Keiji’s reaction. He was too worked up at this point. He snarled and tore at his hair, hurling invectives at Keiji, at himself, at the world in general. He was so wrapped up in his anger that he didn’t notice when Bokuto appeared behind him. 

He turned for another round of pacing but came face to face with the Knight instead.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Bokuto clocked him on the side of the head with his helmet. The Magpie went down like a sack of rocks and didn’t move.

Keiji was too startled to say anything at first. Then, hissing quietly, “His keys. Get the keys at his hip.”

Bokuto spared Keiji a smile before kneeling and shoving the Magpie over so that he could unhook the keys from his belt. He didn’t waste any time in unlocking the wagon or climbing inside.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen like this,” he admitted, sinking down beside Keiji. He reached for the cuff on his ankle. “I couldn’t stand to listen to him anymore. And he was distracted, so…”

“It’s okay,” Keiji laughed. “It was worth it to see his face.”

“It really was, wasn’t it?” Bokuto grinned. He brought his hands up to Keiji’s face, doing it slowly, like he was asking permission. Keiji leaned into him, lifting his own hands to cover Bokuto’s. “And to see yours.”

Keiji sighed softly, closing his eyes as Bokuto traced his thumbs over his cheeks, his lashes, his lips. His bare hands were rough with calluses, but the skin was warm and his touch gentle.

“Let’s go,” Bokuto said. “Miya’s gonna cause a distraction for us. I was supposed to wait, but…”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Me too.”

“Well, I’m not,” Miya appeared at the bars, looking angrier than Keiji had ever seen him. “What the fuck?! Gimme those keys and get your asses outta here!”

Miya was right. It was too late to avoid notice, not with so many guards on patrol. There was a shout and the camp began to rouse; torches were lit and swords were drawn. Some of the horses neighed and animals in their cages grew restless at the unexpected commotion. The old lion roared and the dogs started barking.

They scrambled. Bokuto had to help Keiji out of the wagon, catching him when he stumbled. With the arm that wasn’t wrapped around Keiji, he tossed the keys to Miya.

“Sorry, I couldn’t—“

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Get goin’!” He didn’t wait for them to run before slipping into the shadows to give them a chance at escaping.

Keiji felt weak on his feet. Despite the extra food Miya had been slipping him, he wasn’t anywhere close to full-strength and he hadn’t been able to stand upright in the wagon. It had been months since he’d walked normally, and longer since he could run.

“Stop!” It was the Magpie. He was still on the ground, blood streaming down the side of his face as he struggled to sit up.

Despite his weakness, Keiji’s wings flared out and he fell easily into a defensive stance. Beside him, Bokuto drew his sword.

“We’re leaving,” Bokuto said, backing away from the Magpie, towards the canvas walls and the wooded shoreline behind. Keiji followed his lead, never taking his eyes off of the Magpie. He might be on the ground, but he was dangerous and the mercenaries were coming quickly.

“If you come after us, I’ll kill you,” Keiji told him. “I swear it.”

They ran then, ducking through an unsecured pair of canvas panels, and into the woods as the Magpie screamed in rage.

“Get them! Don’t kill my Angel!”

Considering he’d just been considering killing him earlier, Keiji doubted that order would last long. The Magpie would want his property back dead or alive. He’d blame the death on Bokuto. After all, he was already an exiled Holy Knight and it would make for a great story.

Keiji refused to let that happen.

He ran after Bokuto, tucking his wings down close to prevent drag from slowing him down. They felt heavy on his back. Useless. Even if he’d had the strength, he couldn’t have flown. The flight feathers had been kept clipped.

Behind them, mercenaries gave chase. Dogs barked and howled. Bodies crashed through the trees and the undergrowth. Further back, there were screams of animals and people. Keiji glanced back. There was a fire burning high in the night sky. The kelpie screamed. It wasn’t terror. It was fury. Vengeance.

_Hunger._

“Miya let the animals loose,” Keiji realized.

“Good,” Bokuto said. He looked fierce as he led Keiji through the woods, holding his sword tightly in one hand and Keiji’s hand in the other. There was a determination in his eyes that Keiji admired, that gave him strength. He used to look like that on the battlefield too.

They reached a clearing where Bokuto’s horse waited—a big light-colored destrier—in the outskirts of town near the road. The fog wasn’t quite as thick here, but it was rolling in quickly. It glowed under the half-moonlight.

“Can you ride?” Bokuto asked, giving Keiji his cloak. He nodded, wrapping the cloak around his wings to help pin them down and keep him warm. 

The horse managed their combined weight easily. Angels were light by their very nature, and the destrier was made for carrying armored knights. His hooves clicked on the stone road as Bokuto wheeled him around to go through town. Heading the other way would have sent them back to the menagerie.

“Stay down,” Bokuto said, urging the horse faster. “Don’t let the townsfolk realize I’ve got you.”

“I won’t,” Keiji said, wrapping his arms around Bokuto’s waist. He’d come too far and too close to freedom to have a random mob seize him back into a cage. He would not be their god, their idol, their lucky charm. Never again.

Behind them, the fog rolled into the valley and swallowed the town.

* * *

When the sky began to lighten, Bokuto urged his horse off of the main road and into the wooded trails, using the rising sun and a map as his markers. It was the longer route, but it would be safer. Even with the cloak hiding Keiji’s wings, it was too risky to travel on roads. Better to deal with the occasional bandit or bear.

Their pace slowed by necessity on the forest game trails. The last thing they needed was for Bokuto’s horse to stumble or throw a shoe. He carried too much weight to risk a fall. The easy rhythm of the horse’s walk lulled Keiji until he was dozing against Bokuto’s shoulder. He slept for much of the morning, waking only after the sun had risen high enough to turn the sky a brilliant spring blue. Despite the circumstances, it was the most restful sleep he’d had in months.

“Are you hungry?” Bokuto asked when he realized Keiji was awake.

“Starving,” he admitted. “Miya’s been sneaking me extra food for the last few days, but it’s not enough to make up for so long without.”

“I’m afraid it’s going to be a little longer,” Bokuto said. “I stocked up on food for both of us, but it needs to last until we get closer to Seijoh. I know a border town where we can get supplies. People don’t ask questions there.”

“How long to reach it?”

“A few days at most. We’re making good time and I don’t think they’ve sent anyone after us. The sell swords seemed to give up pretty quick after the fire started.”

“I don’t think they were the only things hunting in the woods,” Keiji said.

“No. Neither do I.” Sighing, Bokuto looked up through the canopy of trees. The dappled light fell like freckles across his handsome profile. “Which means we have time to stop for our meal.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

“No, but I bet you could use the chance to stretch your legs and wings. When’s the last time you rode a horse? ‘Cause Angel or not, you’re gonna be sore as fuck.”

Keiji smiled. “You’re right. And it’s been at least twenty years.”

They stopped at a wide spot in the trail, where patches of tall grass provided browse for the horse and fallen trees made natural seating. It was growing hotter under the trees, the heat and morning dew combining into something oppressive and uncomfortable. Keiji stripped off the cloak and unfurled his wings, sighing as a faint breeze helped dissipate the heat from his feathers.

His entire body ached. His thighs from the hours on the horse, and his wings from months of disuse. His shoulder muscles felt weak. He’d been careful to work his wings as much as possible within the cage to prevent atrophy, but it hadn’t been enough to prevent some muscle loss. Keiji stretched, lifting his arms above his head and forcing his wings to follow until the tips were pointed at the sky.

“Wow…”

Keiji looked at Bokuto, smiling at his awed expression. He’d been stared at for months by hundreds of pairs of eyes, yet it was Bokuto’s gaze that made him blush. 

“Am I the first Angel you’ve met?”

He nodded. “Your wings are bigger than I thought. You’re taller than I realized too.”

“I’ve been in an animal cage for the better part of a year,” Keiji answered, bringing his wings down and stretching them out behind his back. “It’s hard to judge heights when a person can’t stand up straight.”

Bokuto laughed. “That’s true.”

“Thank you, by the way,” Keiji said quietly, bringing his wings back in to rest against his back. “For freeing me. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did,” Bokuto shook his head. “I couldn’t have lived with myself if I left you there.”

“You’re a good man.”

It was Bokuto’s turn to blush. He smiled shyly, like he wasn’t used to being praised for doing the right thing. Or maybe it was just because it was Keiji doing the praising. He hoped it was the latter.

“Did you happen to pack any extra clothes in with the food?” Keiji asked, changing the subject before an awkward silence could fall. “I don’t mind being naked, but It’s a bit uncomfortable to ride like this.”

“Oh! Sure!” Bokuto started rummaging through the saddle bags. “We’ll get you something better at the border, but these should do for now. They’ll probably be too big; is that okay?”

“That’s fine,” Keiji assured him. “Don’t worry about a shirt. I don’t want to cut up any of yours.”

“‘Cut’—oh, right,” he said, realizing. “It’s okay if we need to. I don’t mind.”

“I’ll be alright.”

Bokuto nodded, handing Keiji a pair of dark grey breeches. They were too big, meant for a man with a thicker waist and thicker thighs, but the fabric was soft and clean. With a length of rope as a belt, they were more than serviceable.

“Thank you,” Keiji said, sitting down on a fallen log. His legs protested, but they were beginning to protest standing more. “What I’d really like is a bath.”

“Been awhile, huh?” Bokuto asked, sitting down beside him. He handed Keiji a thick slice of bread with cheese and half an apple. It was golden.

Keiji grinned, taking a bite of the apple. “Now I know where Miya was getting them.”

“That’s how we met. I had a fox that kept stealing them from me, so one night I caught him. One second I was holding a fox by the tail, the next I was wrestling with a fully grown and naked man.”

“Who won?”

“No comment.”

Keiji laughed, his shoulders and wings shaking with it. It seemed almost foreign to him—it had been so long since he’d laughed. It felt good. Sitting there beside Bokuto, eating lunch under the dappled sunlight with his wings free and outstretched felt good.

It felt real.

* * *

“How did you Fall?”

It wasn’t the conversation Keiji had expected to have on horseback. They’d continued on after lunch and fallen into a companionable quiet, but now Bokuto broke it. It was more out of surprise than defensiveness that Keiji countered with a question of his own.

“How did you?”

He was almost sure that Bokuto wasn’t going to answer when a long silence drew out between them. An apology rose to his lips as his heart sank, but Bokuto spoke first.

“I loved the wrong person.”

“So did I,” Keiji said softly. He was ashamed to have made Bokuto answer a question that clearly hurt him. It seemed only fair to give an honest answer in return. “I refused to kill a family of demons because I’d stopped seeing them as monsters. I’d met someone who taught me differently.”

“A demon?”

“Cat demon,” he nodded. “He was… a lot like you, actually. He was kind to me when he didn’t have to be.”

“And you loved him?”

“I think so. He died before I could tell him.”

Bokuto sounded miserable when he answered. “I loved a man too.”

He didn’t need to say any more than that. Keiji knew how the Empire felt about such things. Bokuto was lucky to have been exiled instead of killed. The Order of Holy Knights must have done it to save face if it hadn’t become public knowledge. They would have wanted to hide any trace of scandal.

Keiji hated them. The more he learned of humans, the more he hated them. The good ones were so few and far between. He hadn’t been sure why he trusted Bokuto so quickly, but now he wondered if it wasn’t because they were kindred spirits. They’d been betrayed by the people they fought for and alongside. They’d been ruined for nothing more than the crime of loving the wrong people.

Keiji tightened his arms around Bokuto’s waist and pressed his cheek to his armored shoulder. “I’m sorry. You deserved better.”

Silently, Bokuto placed his hand over Keiji’s and laced their fingers together. They rode on.

* * *

Their journey wasn’t any easier after that, but as the emotional discomforts faded away, the physical began. Staying off of the main roads meant taking harder, less traveled paths that often wound through ravines and along steep cliffs cut into the mountains. Spring snow remained above the tree line and clung to the shadowed side of the ridge, chilling them whenever the wind swept down. Keiji thought it a minor miracle that they didn’t get hit with a late storm while they were still making their way through.

On the other side of the mountain was the Kingdom of Seijoh. But before that was the border town of Date-ko, located along the Iron Ridge. It was on the main road, but there wasn’t much choice. The other mountain passes would still be blocked by snow. 

They slept outside the town, making camp in the woods the way that they had during the previous nights: a small fire, a tent and bedroll that was barely big enough for one, let alone two. So close to the town, they took turns keeping watch throughout the night, and in the morning, Bokuto saddled up his horse.

“If I’m not back by noon, I want you to go on without me,” he said. “I don’t think anything will happen, but you never know in the border towns. Maybe word has traveled that I kidnapped you or the Magpie sent bounty hunters.”

“Do you think anyone would have come here looking?”

“Maybe. It’s the only pass open right now,” Bokuto explained, “but I don’t think they could have gotten here before us. The bigger risk is going to be getting challenged by some asshole who thinks fighting a Knight will give them bragging rights, or getting robbed.”

“Why would anyone be dumb enough to rob a Knight?”

“Because I’m going to sell my armor.”

Keiji was horrified. “You can’t do that! You earned it. You said they weren’t even allowed to take it when they kicked you out of the Order.”

“It’s worth more than the horse,” Bokuto said, “and we need the horse. The armor is… it belonged to a different man. I’ll keep my sword, but the money my armor will bring will give us both a new life in Seijoh.”

“It’s too much,” Keiji protested, taking Bokuto’s hands into his own. “You don’t even know me. I’m not worth that.”

“Of course you are. And I know enough about you to know that I want to stay with you. Isn’t that… don’t you feel the same?”

“I…” Keiji hesitated. The truth was that he did feel the same. He felt like he’d known Bokuto for a lifetime. They had easy silences and even easier conversations. They’d shared hard truths. He liked waking up knowing that Bokuto was beside him. He admired the man’s heart and courage. He loved the way Bokuto’s smile made him feel like he could touch the sun and moon and stars.

And Bokuto had risked so much to save him from the Magpie. Thoughtlessly. Generously. If Keiji said he wanted to part ways, he knew that Bokuto would do it, no matter how much it hurt.

It would hurt. Keiji felt that in his own heart.

“I want to stay by your side,” Keiji agreed. 

Bokuto beamed. He pulled Keiji into his arms, hugging him tightly around the waist. The armor was uncomfortable, but Bokuto’s arms felt good. Safe. Strong. Keiji sank into the embrace with a deep sigh, bringing his arms up around Bokuto’s neck.

“You’ll be careful?”

“Of course,” he promised, pulling away from Keiji. He grinned. “Watch this.”

Bokuto murmured some words under his breath, his palms facing upwards in front of his chest. Keiji felt the prickle of magic in the hair. His hair and feathers stood up on end while he watched Bokuto lift his hands up to his face. He passed them over his face and hair, visibly smoothing the Glamour over his features.

He looked at Keiji with bright orange eyes and dark brown hair speckled with white. Freckles were brushed over his cheeks and his nose looked crooked, like it had been broken and badly set.

“What do you think?” he asked. His smile was the same. It was somewhat disconcerting to see it on a different face.

“I’m impressed,” Keiji said. “Most Holy Knights don’t like using Glamour.”

“I’m not a Holy Knight anymore,” he shrugged. “Miya taught me.”

“You learned well.”

Bokuto flushed at the praise, his smile widening. It was so easy to make him happy, and Keiji realized that he liked doing it. 

“I’ll be back soon,” Bokuto promised. “Is… is there anything particular you’d like me to get for you?”

Oh. It was Keiji’s turn to blush. When was the last time anyone had cared about what he wanted, just to make him happy?

“Um… a comb, actually,” he said. “I… I’d really like to avoid cutting my hair, but it’s more like a rat’s nest these days.”

He’d thought a dozen times over the last few days about asking to borrow Bokuto’s comb, but they hadn’t had time for him to spend untangling the curls. It had also felt foolish in the face of everything else. It still did, but Bokuto was asking and—

“Of course! Hey, what’s your favorite color?”

Keiji blinked. “I… I don’t think I have one?”

“That’s okay. Stay safe, yeah?”

“I will. You too.”

With a nod, Bokuto got onto his horse and rode out of their little campsite. Keiji watched after him with the distinct feeling that he’d just been caught in a whirlwind. 

He didn’t mind it.

* * *

The sun was nearing its zenith when Bokuto finally returned. Keiji tried not to admit to himself that he had been getting nervous, but he couldn’t deny the relieved exhale that left him when he saw the big dappled grey horse coming up the path. Bokuto’s armor was gone, but his saddlebags were bulging. A bag of coins jingled at his waist.

“I got more than I expected,” he told Keiji as he dismounted. “We’ll be set for quite awhile.”

“I still wish you hadn’t needed to sell it.”

“It’s okay,” Bokuto shook his head. “I think I was ready. Holding onto my past has only kept me tied to it. I want to see what the future brings.”

Keiji smiled sadly. He understood. “Together.”

“Together.”

Keiji stepped close to Bokuto, bringing his hands up to rest on his chest. Bokuto’s shirt was clean and soft; his heart raced beneath Keiji’s palms. Big hands settled on his hips, drawing him in closer, and Keiji lifted his chin, letting his eyelids flutter closed.

The kiss was gentle. Chaste. It was at once everything and too much and not enough. Keiji felt himself tremble, felt his breath come out in a shudder as they parted. His wings shivered.

Bokuto looked at him with a crooked, nervous smile. “Okay?”

“Yes. Very much so.”

They stepped away from each other with blushing smiles and Bokuto turned back to his horse. He opened one of the saddle bags and handed a bundle of clothes to Keiji. 

“I hope everything fits.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” he said, unwinding the fabric to find a pair of black leather pants and a cotton shirt that had been dyed a brilliant peacock blue. “Oh. Oh, this is beautiful.”

Bokuto smiled over his shoulder as he pulled a pair of black leather boots out of the bag. “You didn’t have a favorite color, so I got something to match your eyes.”

“Now you’re just being silly,” Keiji scolded, but he was blushing even darker. His cheeks felt like they were on fire. He hugged the clothing to his chest. “Thank you.”

“I got your comb too,” Bokuto said. “Also these.”

He gave Keiji the boots and an embroidered pouch. Setting the boots and clothing down, Keiji opened the pouch to find a tortoiseshell comb and a small hinged mirror. There was also a pot of carmine eye paint and a fine brush inside a narrow lacquer box.

“I had to go into a sundries shop to find the comb,” Bokuto explained. “They had a bunch of makeup and I know you probably used to paint your eyes. I dunno if you still want to, but I thought—“

“It’s exactly right,” Keiji said softly. He hadn’t worn eyeliner since he was first taken by the Magpie’s men. After his Fall, it had been one of the only things left to remind him that he was a blooded Archangel. To remind him of home. “Thank you. It means a lot to me that you thought of getting it.”

Bokuto looked relieved that he’d done the right thing. Maybe he’d doubted it since he’d decided to let go of his armor and wasn’t sure how Keiji felt about his own past. He grabbed one more thing from the saddle bag and presented it to Keiji.

“Just in case. I don’t like leaving you unarmed.”

It was a knife. It wasn’t anything like the daggers Keiji used to have—he doubted he’d ever see them again—but it was well made and the hilt was detailed with an owl.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” Keiji said, bowing his head. He felt somewhat overwhelmed by Bokuto’s generosity. He’d expected some plain, simple clothing and an inexpensive wooden comb, but instead Bokuto had gone out of his way to find things that he thought Keiji might like. Things that were beautiful and well-crafted.

He wanted to protest that it was too much, but Keiji already knew that such a thing would only hurt Bokuto’s feelings. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

“You are so kind,” he said, taking Bokuto’s hand and lifting it to his face. He leaned into the rough palm, closing his eyes. “Truly. Thank you.”

Bokuto leaned in to kiss his forehead. “You’re welcome, Akaashi.”

“Keiji,” he whispered. “You can call me Keiji.”

* * *

The Great Gate of Seijoh welcomed Bokuto and Keiji into the kingdom on the eastern side of the Iron Ridge. The valley beyond was verdant and rich, fed by a river that flowed out of the mountains. Small farming towns spotted the land, many of them gathered close to the river. Far past the horizon there would be a castle on the cliffs above the ocean, its great road protected by ancient forests and a stronghold of castle towns. It was vast and lonely and beautiful. 

“Where will we go?” Keiji asked. He wasn’t yet wearing his new clothes. He still hadn’t been able to bathe and he was loath to get them dirty just by putting them on.

“Anywhere you want,” Bokuto answered.

“Have you ever seen the ocean?”

“No.”

“Neither have I. Should we try that?”

“Let’s go,” Bokuto nodded, urging his horse down the road. “We can spend the night in one of the riverside inns.”

“I’m not sure I can remember the last time I slept in a proper bed.”

“Neither can I,” Bokuto said with a laugh. “I can’t remember the last time I ate a proper meal either.”

Keiji hummed an affirmative. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done so many things. And now the future lay open in front of him, as brilliant as the valley below. He could bathe. Sleep. Eat. 

“I want to fly again,” he said against Bokuto’s shoulder. It came out soft. Wistful.

“How long until your feathers grow out?” Bokuto asked. 

“A few months. Maybe less if we’re able to eat regularly.” He flexed his wings slightly—afraid of spooking the horse if he tried to spread them fully. “I need to build my muscles up again too.”

“I want to see you fly,” Bokuto said. “Is that weird?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Not if it’s you. You don’t look at me like I’m a freak or like I’m some untouchable god.”

“I might have,” he replied. “If I was still the man I used to be, I probably would have taken you back to the Empire and tried to crawl back into the Order with you as my golden ticket.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Bokuto sighed long and heavy. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I don’t think you would have,” Keiji told him. “You might have thought about it, but I don’t think you could have done it. You’re too good of a man.”

“You keep saying that.”

“I’ll say it until you believe it. The Order didn’t deserve someone like you.”

A short laugh escaped Bokuto. “I’m not sure I deserve someone like _you_.”

“I’ll keep telling you that until you believe it too.”

Bokuto took his hand and laced their fingers together. “Thank you, Keiji.”

* * *

Keiji sank into the bath with a happy sigh. He’d scrubbed at his hair in the showers until the water finally ran clear. The knots were even worse, but he at last felt clean. The hot bath chased away the aches in his thighs and back. His wings sagged, relaxing. It would take forever to dry them, but it was early enough in the day that he could sit in the sun and let them dry naturally.

With Bokuto nearby, he felt safe enough to do that.

He turned his head towards the subject of his thoughts, admiring Bokuto’s broad, naked back as he showered. He told himself that the blush rising to his face was caused by the heat of the baths, but Keiji knew better. Bokuto was a carved marble god made flesh. His thighs were thickly muscled, his ass perfectly rounded. And when he turned around to rinse his hair, Keiji had to look away.

It was too late. His own cock stirred with interest and Keiji had to distract himself by starting to untangle his hair. He used his fingers to pick apart the largest knots, working his way through a thick length of hair by the time Bokuto joined him in the bath. He forced himself not to look until Bokuto was fully seated beside him.

“Better?” Bokuto asked.

“Much,” Keiji said with a smile. He glanced up and down Bokuto’s torso before he could stop himself. His gaze lingered at the winged sword tattooed over Bokuto’s heart. He wondered if Bokuto wished he could be rid of it as easily as he’d sold the armor or if it was a good reminder of who he’d been.

“Good. You look like it too,” Bokuto said. “Do you, um… d’you want help with your hair?”

Keiji felt his heart stop. What Bokuto was suggesting was so intimate. If his wings hadn’t been soaked, his feathers would have fluffed in pleasure and embarrassment. “I… that would be nice. Thank you.”

He shifted closer to Bokuto, turning so that he could reach his hair more easily and pulling his wings out of the way. The first touch of his hands made Keiji shiver.

“Sorry.”

“No. No, it’s okay,” Keiji shook his head. “It’s just been a very long time since I let anyone touch my hair.”

“It’s really pretty,” Bokuto said in a quiet voice. Almost reverent. He ran gentle fingers over Keiji’s curls, almost like he was afraid of snagging one of the knots and hurting him. “And soft. I’ve never known anybody with hair like yours.”

“Not many do. It’s rare for Angels to have black hair.”

“Black hair is common among humans,” Bokuto said, taking a lock of Keiji’s hair and beginning to comb through the ends with his fingers. “It’s the curls that are rare. And the length. Nobody keeps it as long as you do unless they’re like, rich. Or royalty. It’s hard to take care of by yourself, isn’t it?”

“Only when I go months without a comb,” Keiji said with a wry smile. He looked over his shoulder at Bokuto. He looked softer with his own hair down out of the spiky style he wore. “White hair is uncommon for humans, isn’t it?”

Bokuto ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it with a sheepish grin. “Yeah. It’s a family thing. Our hair turns grey really early. My sisters both started going grey at twelve. I was even younger.”

“I like it,” Keiji said. “It suits you.”

“Thanks. I’ve always liked it too. Everyone else thinks it’s weird, but I don’t wanna be like everyone else. I want to stand out.”

“Mm. I can see that about you.”

“Akaashi!” Despite his protest, Bokuto was smiling. Keiji reached out to run a hand through his hair, finding it softer than he expected.

“Keiji.”

Bokuto leaned into Akaashi’s palm, closing his eyes. “Yeah. Keiji.”

“Let’s go upstairs.”

* * *

“Yeah.”

In their room, Keiji sat cross-legged on the feather bed while Bokuto combed his hair out and applied sweet-smelling oil to the curls. They were both wearing the thin white robes provided by the inn, though Keiji’s was draped around his waist. His wings were spread out and the windows open to allow the warm breeze to help dry him. He carefully preened the damp feathers while Bokuto worked on his hair, closing his eyes in relaxation every so often.

Then Bokuto would kiss his neck or shoulders and he’d be wide awake again, his wings shivering and his spine tingling.

“You’re so beautiful,” Bokuto breathed against his ear, sliding his strong arms around Keiji’s waist.

“I wouldn’t believe it if it weren’t you,” Keiji leaned back against him. He could feel the water from his curls and wings soaking into Bokuto’s robe, but there was no protest. “Everyone else would be trying to flatter me, but you mean every word you say. Don’t you?”

“I’m a lousy liar.”

Keiji laughed. “I’m glad. I prefer your honesty.”

He turned around so that he could sit in Bokuto’s lap, straddling thick thighs and sliding his arms around those wide shoulders. He pressed their foreheads together. “You’re beautiful too.”

Bokuto blushed, painting his face red all the way down to his chest. Keiji liked it. Liked the way the damp robe had turned transparent and now clung to Bokuto’s muscles. His chest was a piece of artwork. It had to be big enough to hold his heart.

“Beautiful,” Keiji said again, pressing his palm to Bokuto’s tattoo. He felt the heartbeat quicken beneath his hand. Watched the swell of his chest as he took a deep breath. “And so good. I’ve never met a better man.”

“Keiji…”

He hushed Bokuto with a kiss. It was gentle and sweet, as chaste as the first one they’d shared. Keiji didn’t let it stay that way for long. Bokuto’s lips were warm against his, his mouth soft and full like he was made for kissing.

 _Kissing and smiling,_ Keiji thought as Bokuto gave a soft, pleased laugh. He hugged Keiji closer and parted his lips for the tongue that flickered over them. Despite everything, there was such joy in this man. Keiji wanted to drown in it.

“Make love to me,” he whispered, fitting his hips against Bokuto’s. Their thin robes didn’t do anything to hide the fact that they were both hard. They’d both known this was going to happen since they left the baths and Keiji wanted it so badly. “Koutarou… please.”

Bokuto nodded, dragging his hands down Keiji’s waist and hips. He slid them beneath the robe, squeezing bare skin. “Anything you want.”

“Just you,” Keiji smiled, his mouth hovering over Bokuto’s. “You’re all I want.”

“Same here.”

Keiji kissed him again, hotter and sweeter. He arched into Bokuto’s touch, his wings lifting in response. He couldn’t help the way they fluttered and shifted, giving away his pleasure as surely as any moan or whimper. 

“Have you ever done this before?” Keiji asked, pressing his lips to the pulse in Bokuto’s neck. It was pounding.

“A few times,” he answered, tilting his head to give Keiji more room. He was breathing hard and his voice settled into a lower, rougher timbre. “You?”

“More than a few. Not for decades though.”

“Think you've forgotten?” Bokuto teased, running his hands up Keiji’s back. He hesitated near the base of his wings.

“It’s okay. You can touch them,” Keiji said, unable to bite back a sharp groan of pleasure as Bokuto did just that.

Bokuto's fingers combed gently but eagerly through his feathers, tracing out the joints where back met wings. He watched with awe—and satisfaction, Keiji noted—as Keiji arched and moaned for him.

“Beautiful…”

“Cheating,” Keiji scolded with a laugh. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Bokuto asked. His face was earnest and his hands had stilled on Keiji’s wings.

“Don’t you dare,” he shook his head, cupping Bokuto’s face with both hands. He kissed him, alternating quick, sweet pecks with slower, deeper brushes of tongue against tongue. “I love how you touch me, Koutarou.”

“I don’t ever want to stop,” Bokuto said. His palms dragged down Keiji's back to his hips. His forefingers pressed into the dimples at the small of Keiji’s back, sending a frisson of pleasure up his spine and out through the tips of his wings.

“Never,” he shuddered, placing his hands onto Bokuto’s chest for balance. “Oh, gods… never ever stop…”

“You’re so sensitive,” Bokuto murmured, more to himself than Keiji. “You’re amazing.”

Keiji laughed breathlessly, hiding his face against Bokuto’s neck. “You’d be sensitive too after so long.”

“Mm. I don’t think so. I bet you’ve always been like this,” Bokuto grinned. He hugged Keiji close. “You’re made for pleasure, aren’t you?”

Keiji was made for war, but he liked Bokuto’s words more. They made him feel hotter than he already was. 

He let Bokuto lay him down onto the mattress, settling his wings comfortably beneath him. He felt his hair spill around his face and watched Bokuto’s eyes widen as he gazed down at him. He liked what he saw. Keiji could tell.

He opened his arms up, beckoning. “Come here.”

Bokuto didn’t need to be asked twice. Limbs entangled, their bodies twined together on the bed. Increasingly impatient hands pulled at the damp robes until they could touch bare flesh. Keiji gave into temptation, exploring Bokuto’s chest with fingers and mouth, distracting him while he fumbled for the sweet oil. Some spilled over the sheets, filling the room with the scent of almonds and night flowers.

“N-Now who’s cheating?” Bokuto asked, sliding his slick hand up Keiji’s inner thigh. He moaned softly as Keiji pinched at one nipple.

“Now who’s sensitive?” he teased back. His legs fell open and he arched his hips, inviting Bokuto to touch him more. The oil was warm on Bokuto’s fingers. “Ohh…”

“I think we’re about even now.”

Keiji lost his laughter to moans and gasps. Bokuto was right. He was made for this. Or maybe he was just made for Bokuto. His hands were strong and sure as he gently pressed his fingers inside of Keiji, one by one by one. His kisses were like fire, stoking Keiji’s pleasure higher and higher. He didn’t want to ever leave the bed. Didn’t want to leave Bokuto’s side.

“Please… please, yes…” he urged, dragging his nails down Bokuto’s chest. He wanted to touch himself so badly, but that would end things far too soon. He touched Bokuto instead, wrapping his hand around that impressive cock. It was thick and warm in his hand. 

“Fuck, Keiji…”

“I want you inside me,” he said, stroking in time to the fingers working inside of him. He traced his thumb over Bokuto’s tip, liking the way he shuddered.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too,” Bokuto nodded, slicking himself with more of the oil and settling himself between Keiji’s thighs. He paused, hands lifting Keiji’s hips, and smiled down at him with a soft, sweet expression. “Wow.”

Keiji blushed, turning his face into his curls and shoulder. He would have hidden behind his wings if he could have. He peeked back at Bokuto, trying only slightly for a coy smile.

“Kou. Please.”

Slow. So slow. Bokuto pushed inside like he was savoring it. Like he would never feel Keiji’s body around him again and wanted to memorize it. And oh, how Keiji felt the same way. He moaned low and long, arching up against Bokuto like an offering. His hands tangled into the sheets and his wings thrashed against the bed as his body opened. For a moment, Keiji forgot what it was like to breathe.

Bokuto filled him so well. Stretched him wide, reached deep. Keiji wrapped his legs around Bokuto’s waist, reached up to hold him close. His wings enveloped them both as they settled, gasping softly into each other’s mouths.

“Keiji…”

“I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Me either.”

“I wouldn’t let you,” he said with a squeeze of his thighs. Bokuto groaned, rocking his hips until Keiji also cried out. “Oh, gods… please…”

Keiji might have been made for pleasure, but Bokuto was made for _him_.

Their bodies moved together like they’d been together for years. Keiji met each slow, deep thrust with an arch of his back and a lift of his hips. He dug his nails into Bokuto’s shoulders, gasping out his name like a prayer.

“Harder… I’m not fragile, Kou…”

“I know,” he replied with a smile, brushing his lips against Keiji’s, “but you have to ride a horse tomorrow.”

Keiji shook his head, laughing despite himself. He wanted to protest, but who was he to deny Bokuto if what he wanted was slow and gentle? And the truth was, he was probably right. A few regular meals hadn’t brought his healing abilities back to full strength. He was going to be aching enough as it was.

His laughter tapered off into small, soft groans and Keiji let himself relax deeper into the bed. His wings drooped, flexing with every thrust of Bokuto’s hips, and he stretched his arms up above his head, inviting Bokuto to pin his hands down. Their fingers twined together.

Keiji felt beautiful. Loved. Worshipped. His body climbed towards release with an increasing fire, stoked by Bokuto’s kisses, his words, his cock. The curve of him stroked Keiji’s inner walls, seeking out his sweetest spots with ease. His width left Keiji gasping, left him feeling empty with each backward stroke and filled to bursting with the forward thrusts that followed. Keiji’s own cock ached, hard and weeping against his belly, unable to touch it because of his own captured hands.

He tried to plead for Bokuto to touch him, but the words caught in his throat. He tightened his legs around Bokuto’s waist, rocking up desperately into him. The smack of skin against skin echoed in his ears. His own heartbeat tried to drown it out.

“You’re amazing,” Bokuto praised him, squeezing their fingers together. “Are you close? Can you come without being touched?”

He didn’t know. He never had before. But then, he’d never been with Bokuto before. Bokuto who, despite his limited experience, seemed to know exactly how to touch him, how to whisper into his ear and twist his hips until Keiji was writhing beneath him. 

“Please…” he begged. “Please, Kou, please…”

“Come for me,” Bokuto said, his low, rough voice making it into an order. “I want to feel you come on my cock, Keiji.”

Keiji shifted his hips and it was just enough. Bokuto’s tip ran over and over that knot of nerves until Keiji was shaking, clutching at him tightly with his legs. His cock spilled hot over his belly and his wings flapped uselessly against the bed as he cried out. 

Bokuto let him ride his orgasm out, watching with wide golden eyes like he’d never get to see it again. He kept thrusting in and out as Keiji shuddered, slow and deliberate, before his control seemed to break and then he was chasing his own climax. Keiji bit back a scream of ecstasy, his body overwhelmed by the pleasure, the stimulation. He had been denied for far too long and now his nerves were singing, shrieking. His back arched impossibly, eyes rolling back as he came for a second time and Bokuto filled him with liquid heat.

They trembled together, bodies caught with tension that seemed to take far too long to snap. They didn’t just relax. They collapsed into each other, panting for breath and tangled in the sheets. Keiji tried to bring a wing up to embrace Bokuto, but he wasn’t able to manage more than a flicker of his feathers. He was exhausted.

And he needed another bath.

* * *

Bokuto had been right. Keiji _ached_. It was even worse than it had been after the night they ran away from the menagerie. At least then it had been mostly in his legs and thighs, but now the soreness seeped into every inch of him and settled in his hips and ass. No matter how he shifted and squirmed, Keiji couldn’t get comfortable on the back of Bokuto’s horse. All he managed to do was irritate the horse.

He tried to distract himself by dozing against Bokuto’s back, letting his mind wander to the more pleasurable parts of the previous day and night. They’d bathed again and Bokuto had finished combing out Keiji’s hair. They’d gotten food—good, hot, home cooked food and the crisp white wine Seijoh’s valleys were famous for—and sat outside in the late afternoon sun. Keiji had stretched his wings wide to soak up the heat and Bokuto had regaled him with tales of his days with the Holy Order.

At night, they slept embraced in the feather bed, safe in each other’s arms. Bokuto kept his sword within reach and Keiji did the same with his new knife. They were safe from bounty hunters in Seijoh, but inns could still be dangerous to unwary travelers.

Keiji sighed deeply, smiling at the memory of Bokuto’s arm around his waist, his fingers playing gently over Keiji’s hip. He’d had his head pillowed on Bokuto’s chest, eyes half-closed as he traced the tattoo over Bokuto’s heart. It had been more comfortable than anything he could remember. Waking up to the sunlight and Bokuto’s smiling face had filled Keiji with an impossible joy.

He wanted to have that forever.

Keiji’s time in Magpie Jack’s Magical Traveling Menagerie seemed like a lifetime ago. When he’d been there, it had seemed like it would never end, but now he could barely remember it. Bokuto had swept him up and out of that existence so quickly and easily that Keiji still thought it might be a dream.

Gazing out into the green fields of Seijoh, it still seemed to be. Untouched by the Holy Empire, the kingdom was populated by demons, the Fae and humans alike. Even the Host of Angels had never been able to breach its borders during all of the Great Wars.

Once, Keiji would have seen it as the other Angels did. A den of evil, unholy and decadent. Now it was to be his sanctuary. He saw the beauty in this place, in the small riverside towns where kappa fished alongside children and on the lone farms where fairy cows grazed. 

The ocean pulled at him. The sky beckoned.

Keiji tightened his arms around Bokuto and thought that he was already home.


	3. Epilogue: Fox

Osamu walked up the winding, forested path to the small cabin overlooking the ocean. The salt air was clean and sharp against his nose, the wind whipped at his hair. Gulls called in the sky above.

“Ya sure this is the place?” his brother asked, looking around with a doubtful expression on his face.

“Of course I am. How many Angels d’you think live around here? The guy in town said this was the place. Besides, I can smell ‘em both.”

“All I can smell is salt. And pine trees.”

“Surprised ya can smell anything other than yourself,” Osamu rolled his eyes. He set off up the trail, ignoring Atsumu’s protest. “Come on.”

The cabin was smaller than Osamu expected. And downright quaint, considering who lived there. There was a small garden filled with flowers and vegetables, protected from the cliffside winds by a curtain of tall pines and the cabin itself. The small windows were covered with colored glass and the door was painted a cheery shade of red.

The place looked like it had been pulled right out of a storybook. Osamu half-expected to see squirrels or rabbits come dancing down the path.

Instead bees buzzed inside of the flowers and a bird sang nearby. It sounded like a warning, which Osamu thought was fair. 

He barely had time to knock on the red door when it was thrown open and Bokuto greeted him with a wide smile and bone-crushing hug. “Miyam!”

From inside, Akaashi’s voice: “Miya? He’s here?”

The Angel appeared at Bokuto’s side, looking so much different from the last time Osamu had seen him. His wings were full and healthy, his hair combed into glossy, perfect curls and he wasn’t as sickly pale nor as painfully thin as Osamu remembered. His bright blue-green eyes were lined with red paint that nearly matched the door. And he was wearing clothes: black pants and boots, and a gauzy white shirt covered in the distinctive Seijoh style of embroidery.

“Wow. I-I mean...”

Akaashi smiled, a blush rising to his fair cheeks before he waved off Osamu’s awkward stammering.

“It’s good to see you,” he said, holding out his hands. Osamu took them, letting his Glamour disappear as he crossed the threshold into the cabin. Atsumu followed, his brown hair turning reddish blond to match his ears and tail.

“This is my brother,” Osamu said. “Atsumu.”

“You never said he was your twin,” Akaashi chided gently.

“Ya never asked.”

“Seriously?” Atsumu asked, scowling at him. “You couldn’t be bothered to tell him that? Did ya even miss me?”

“I’m beginning to regret that I did,” he shot back. “I can always drag your ass back to the freak show, y’know.”

“Boys,” Akaashi said. “No fighting in my home, please.”

“Are you guys hungry?” Bokuto asked, helping to change the subject. “It’s almost lunchtime anyway.”

Osamu gave him a sly smile. “You got any apples?”

“Always,” Bokuto looked fondly at Akaashi. It would have been cute if it wasn’t so domestically saccharine. Behind him, Atsumu gagged quietly and Osamu shoved an elbow into his stomach.

“I’m glad you found us,” Akaashi said, diplomatically ignoring Atsumu’s antics. He led them into the sitting room while Bokuto went into the tiny kitchen. “I wasn’t sure if you would. Or if you’d even made it out of Laketown.”

“Only one pass into Seijoh that early into the spring. After goin’ through Dateko, it was just a matter of following the stories of the Angel. You’re pretty rare, even in these parts.”

“Also, I’m really good at tracking,” Atsumu put in. Osamu didn’t argue since it was true. They were both good—they were foxes, damn it—but Atsumu was the more talented tracker. Osamu not-so-privately thought that it was because Atsumu was so good at finding trouble.

“What happened after Koutarou and I got out of the menagerie?” Akaashi asked. 

“I let the animals out,” Osamu shrugged. He figured that Akaashi had already realized that. They’d been none too quiet. “Most of them just ran. The old lion managed to take down one of the horses, but the Kelpie… he got the Magpie.”

Akaashi tried to keep his face neutral, but Osamu saw the corners of his mouth twitch. “Good.”

“Yeah. I thought so too,” Osamu shrugged. “Last I saw, he was dragging the bastard towards the lake an’ nobody was dumb enough to stop him.”

“And you?” 

“I grabbed a horse and ran. I dunno who knocked over the torches, but somebody started a fire. The animals got out and scattered. From what I heard, a few of them were recovered and sold off into new shows, but the rest?” Osamu lifted his shoulders again. “Laketown’s got a new Kelpie in their lake though.”

“I’m sure he’s fat and healthy,” Akaashi smirked. “It seems we all have better lives now. You do, don’t you?”

“Found this asshole—“

“Hey!”

Osamu went on as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “—At one of the freak shows. Convinced ‘em he was more trouble than he’s worth.”

“And convinced me to help track down his Angel an’ Knight buddies,” Atsumu finished. He was trying to sound put out, but Osamu knew better than that. His brother cared more than he’d ever let on.

“So you’ve just been tracking us this whole time? Miya, it’s been months!” Akaashi said, looking horrified. “I thought you said it was easy!”

“We took a few detours along the way,” he said, shaking his head. “Heard there was a fox shrine down towards the southern border and we wanted ta meet the locals.”

“Uh-huh. And I suppose you made quite an impression.”

“Shook things up a bit,” Osamu admitted. He didn’t add that they’d been chased out of the town after that little incident with the chief’s son. In the temple. In front of the altar. With the sacramental wine.

“You both look entirely too pleased with yourselves,” Akaashi said, looking between Osamu and his brother. “I don’t think I want to hear the details. What will you do now, since I assume you can’t go back any time soon?”

“Dunno,” Atsumu answered. “Might travel some more. Seijoh’s a pretty big place.”

Osamu nodded. “We ain’t the type to stay in one place for long. You and Bokuto seem to have settled down pretty nice though.”

Akaashi smiled. “Yes. We’re both ready for some peace and quiet. For awhile, at least.”

“Good for you. Ya look… really happy, ‘Kaashi.”

“Thank you. So do you, Miya.” He fluffed his feathers up in that way Osamu had come to recognize meant that he was happy. 

“Osamu,” he offered. 

Akaashi nodded. “Keiji. And you’re both always welcome in our home.”

Osamu looked between Akaashi—Keiji—and Bokuto, who was bringing lunch out on a tray. He looked around the little cabin, with its mismatched furniture and rough hewn walls, and his eyes landed on his brother. Atsumu gave him a knowing look. Atsumu had always been the restless one. Always been the wanderer.

But in this little house, Osamu thought that he’d like to call somewhere home too.

One day.

—END—


End file.
